


Drabbles

by OllieMaye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Auror Ron Weasley, Birthday Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cohabitation, Detention, F/F, F/M, M/M, Making Out, Muggle Culture, Oral Sex, Rainbows, Rope Bondage, Storms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieMaye/pseuds/OllieMaye
Summary: Drabbles written for The Pen15 is Mightier Potterotic Facebook group. Chapter name reflects prompt given.





	1. Rainbow

Ginny had listened with rapt interest as Hermione told her of the “barbaric” Muggle ritual of tattoos. They’d been dating for about three months, and Ginny was prone to asking her new partner about Muggle life. “Like father, like daughter”, Hermione would say to herself, barely containing a smile at the thought. So it came as no surprise when Ginny flaunted her new rainbow tattoo, located just above her elbow, to Hermione. She shook her head and smiled. “What am I going to do with you, wild child?” and kissed Ginny fervently.

Another six months later, the two witches started cohabiting. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon; Ginny had just arrived home from Quidditch practice. The new kitten greeted her at the door and she could smell something lemony and sweet in the air. Setting down her things, she wafted into the kitchen to find Hermione putting the finishing touches on Ginny’s favorite, fresh lemon bars. Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione and nuzzled her full brown curls. “Smells good, love” she murmured, spinning Hermione and capturing her lips in an impassioned kiss. _Merlin, will this honeymoon phase ever end?_ she thought as Hermione’s tongue explored her own.

“I thought you were never coming home,” Hermione giggled as she pushed Ginny against the fridge, reaching under her practice jersey and taking in the smell of sweat and jasmine: Ginny’s smell. As they kissed, she felt the smooth plane of Ginny’s abdomen and worked her way up, feeling her way into Ginny’s bra. Ginny’s hands were busy tangling themselves in Hermione’s hair, then reaching inside her pyjama bottoms and tugging them down gently but quickly. As they undressed each other, Ginny paused a moment to take in the sight of her lover. She was beautiful, the morning sun casting an aura around her. As Hermione lifted her arms above her head to remove her t-shirt, Ginny spotted something new: along her ribs, just below Hermione’s bustline, a tiny rainbow that matched Ginny’s.

 _Holy fuck_ . _She actually did it,_ Ginny thought. Feeling her arousal strengthen, Ginny stared at the tattoo with a bemused-yet-amazed look on her face. Noticing this, Hermione brushed Ginny’s lips with a kiss, said, “Happy birthday, Ginny,” and, tugging at her hand, she led Ginny to the bedroom.


	2. Unsexy

Neville could feel the pre-cum trickling out of Harry’s John Thomas and his throat tightened,  like when you’re on a bad carnival ride and you’re about to vomit. It had been a while since Harry’d had any kind of sex, and he came in buckets into Neville’s now-slack mouth hole. Neville had quite the amount of the milky whiteness his mouth, and he gagged as a few drops slithered down his throat. 

“Do I taste good Nev?” Harry asked as he languidly laid back against the splintered headboard. He shoved his own pale hand into Neville’s trousers, hoping to find his soldier at attention.

Neville swatted Harry’s hand away, wiped the corner of his lips, and hacked as his throat still tickled from the cascade of cum. “Not bad,” he sputtered and grabbed his own meat wand, ready to pay Harry back in kind.


	3. Wand

Celestina Warbeck warbled over the wireless.

_ “Come on baby, take your wand of love  _

_ And show me that you’re the one _

_ Cast your spell of love over me _

_ And I’ll show my love until you’re done” _

“Merlin, that song is horrible,” Neville murmured as Harry feathered light kisses along his jawline. Harry liked the feel of stubble against his skin; he breathed against Neville’s hair and his woodsy scent made Harry’s erection throb. He nibbled at Neville’s neck as Neville ran his rugged hands down Harry’s spine and into the back of his trousers. 

“Shh, love,” Harry breathed and waved his wand at the radio, quieting Celestina as he went back to tending to his lover. 


	4. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a kind of extension of the “Rainbow” drabble :)

Ginny fell back on the bed. She had just had the best fuck of her life; her body was still thrumming, though the initial intensity of her orgasm had dissipated. Hermione propped herself up on an elbow. “You okay?” she asked, lightly stroking Ginny’s hair, furrowing her brow. 

Ginny was still breathless after their romp, but she brushed Hermione’s lips with a kiss and sat up. “I’m fine, just spent,” she said with a crooked smile. She swung her legs off the bed and padded into the bathroom. Keeping an eye on Hermione, she walked to the tub and started to draw a bath. Hermione slinked her way behind Ginny and wrapped her arms around Ginny’s middle, nuzzling her nose into Ginny’s hair and inhaling the intoxicating scent. “Good idea,” she said, “you’ve had a hard day. Let me help you wash it away.”


	5. Snake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote way more than just this little drabble, trying to lengthen it to a one-shot. :)

Neville stared at him, slack-jawed. Harry looked slightly taken aback as well, but shock softened into a smile and he said it again. “I love you, Nev.” 

Neville cocked his head to the side; no one had ever told him that before aside from his Nan, and even then, she didn’t say it often, not being a woman of affectionate words. He let the words sink in, turned to the open patch of space behind him and held out his wand. “Expecto patronum,” he shouted. Only wisps of silvery mist, just as expected. Neville lowered his wand. He collapsed dejectedly onto the blanket next to Harry. “I really think this is no good. I’m useless at this.”


	6. Lips

“Oh, fuck you,” Harry had said to Draco as he stormed out of his office. 

Minutes later, within the confines of his own office, Harry shook his head. He replayed the scene over and over and over in his head, hoping to find the joke that was obviously hidden.

Even an hour after their conversation had ended, he could see the lusting, dark grey eyes flitting around and taking in Harry’s face, Harry’s hands, every bit of him. He had never felt so naked, even though he was fully clothed. And he could hear the words Draco had almost growled at him. The words falling from his lips as Harry had left his office; Draco’s pink lips, a smile curling up one corner. Harry could replay them over and over. 

“I want you to.” 


	7. Harry’s Birthday

The cake had been cut, presents given, champagne had flowed; all in all, Harry’s surprise party for his 30th birthday was a success.

 “So, you enjoyed it, then?” Draco said, flopping down on the sofa next to Harry. He placed his hand on Harry’s knee, brushing his fingers gently against his trousers. Surveying the damage in the great room, he made a mental list of things that needed to be done. But all that could wait until tomorrow.

 “Yeah, it was brilliant,” Harry replied with a smile, lacing his fingers into Draco’s. “Thank you for that.” He kissed Draco’s cheek and nuzzled into his hair.

 “I’m glad, then.” They sat that way for a while, fingers intertwining and exchanging kisses here and there. The quiet should have soothed the Cornish pixies in Draco’s stomach, but he had one task left to complete for Harry’s birthday surprises.

 “Oy, remember that thing we talked about the other day? I’ve been thinking about it.  A lot.”

 Harry sat up, eyes bright with excitement. “You went and got the chair I wanted! I knew you’d come ‘round!” He looked around the room and stood up. “Where is it?”

 Draco furled his brow. ‘How does he never get it?’ he thought, smiling to himself as he watched his intended bustle about the rooms, widening his search for his next present. He reached into his pocket and squeezed the little box. ‘It’s now or never,’ he thought, steeling himself.

 “Harry,” Draco called, “darling, come here, it’s not that.” Harry stopped his near-frantic search of the nearby rooms and came back to where Draco was now kneeling and fumbling with the little box. He took a deep breath as he watched a look of bewilderment wash over Harry’s face. “I’ve got one last surprise for you.”


	8. Rope

“Safe word is ‘nargle’”, Theodore Nott reminded her. 

Pansy Parkinson gasped when she felt a scarf being tied around her around her head, sending her world into black. Theo pointed his wand at her and darkly muttered “ _ incarcerous. _ ” Ropes burst from his wand and wound themselves around Pansy’s wrists and ankles, binding her to the chair.

“Does Ms. Parkinson still want to go further?”

Her first reaction was indecision. The feel of the ropes, the itch of them ignited sparks within her. Yet she was also terrified of not being able to move, not having an escape, of losing control.

She felt a hand brush the back of her neck and the feel of Theo’s breath against her ear.

Pansy considered the strength of the hand that now cradled her neck and imagined Theo’s sinewy body grinding against hers. Those hands had promised to stop at her word, to touch only with her permission, and they hadn’t broken their promise.

Pansy steeled herself. “Yes,” she breathed.


	9. Storm

Rain fell in little droplets against the gray sky. Harry watched them gather against the windowpane as Luna traced lines across his back. “If we don’t leave this bed, we're not going to get to the barbecue before the storm hits,” he said, flipping over to meet Luna’s gaze. 

“I’m not done yet,” she replied with a tiny smile as she continued her work on Harry’s body, now mimicking words against his chest. “Just a couple more pages to go.” 

“A couple more pages? What the hell are you writing?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“The Complete, Unabridged, Annotated Hogwarts, A History,” Luna said with devious glint in her eyes. 

At that moment, a loud clap of thunder and a flickering of lights in the house, and the sudden downpour of rain interrupted Luna’s playful tone. Ever since the war, loud noises seemed to slightly spook Luna. Harry wrapped his arms around her, cradling her to his chest. “It’s alright, love, it’s just the nargles tap dancing.” He kissed the top of her head, and Luna melted into him.


	10. Detention

“I’ll expect to have all the shrivelfigs repotted in one hours’ time,” Pomona Sprout called behind her as she shut the door to the greenhouse. Surprise detention duty had dampened her plans for the afternoon, and she’d had only a few minutes to reconfigure, and certainly even less time to enjoy said plans, but she conceded and sent an owl off to Ronalda to notify her of the changes. 

As soon as the door was securely shut, an unseen force jostled Pomona to a darkened corner between supply sheds. She was thrown against the wall of one of them and she felt a hand running up her thigh and squeezing her arse. Ronalda must have nicked the Invisibility Cloak from Dumbledore again, the little minx. “Ronalda, is that you?”

“No, it’s Severus,” snarked back a decidedly feminine-but-raspy voice. “Now be quiet or we shan’t have time for this.” Pomona made to retort but a pair of unseen lips captured her words before she could utter them. Breathless, she returned the impassioned kiss with fervor.


	11. Auror

The notice she got in the owl post had said that Auror Weasley would be round the manor at 10 o’clock that morning, and Pansy was a nervous wreck. She’s spent the morning obsessively tidying up around the house: polishing the antique tea service, dusting off the elaborately carved bookcases, even checking to make sure the ebony and ivory keys gleamed on the baby grand in the foyer, anything to get her mind off Ron’s imminent arrival to her family home, and back into her life. 

She’d gone through the potential questions and answers with her family over and over, and even though she knew they’d pass the “exam” with flying colors, the thought of seeing Ron, in his billowing official Ministry robes, still made her nervous. Not because this was an official Ministry call, but because he’d look at her with those eyes, those blue eyes that had seen her naked and vulnerable form. He’d bite that lip, the lip that she had caressed with her own and sucked as he seduced her. And he’d definitely need to unglove the hands that had run themselves over her lithe body, explored her inner depths until she’d cried out for him to fuck her. Pansy was blushing and getting warm just thinking about their last encounter, when suddenly she heard she jangling of bells at the front door. Taking one last appraisal in the mirror, she made her way to her doom. 

“Hello, Auror Weasley,” Pansy said brightly as she opened the door, only to find not Ronald Weasley standing in front of her, but someone, a male someone, she didn’t know. “I’m sorry, are you from the Ministry?”

“Yes ma’am. Name’s Jason,” said the man, and Pansy died inside. All that time spent obsessing over Ron, and he sends some rando whose name she’ll never remember. ‘Stupid git,’ she thought as she showed Jeremy - no, Jason - into the foyer.


	12. Snow

Pomona never liked snow. For one thing, that meant cold, and many of her plants didn’t like that. For another, it meant long, dreary days, and not enough sunshine. But there was one thing snow meant that Pomona did, in fact, love: being cooped up inside, in front of a warm, cosy fire, with her amber-eyed lover. 

Snowflakes fell and gathered on the ground outside, powdery white fluffing up with each step they took. Rolanda twirled, quite uncharacteristically, and beckoned for Pomona to join her. She did, grasping Rolanda’s hands and twirling around with her, two dancers in a snow globe.

Pomona, ever the graceful witch, stumbled over her feet and toppled to the ground, laughing. “Bollocks,” she shouted. Rolanda was laughing too, and made her way over to help Pomona up. 

That was a mistake; Pomona took the hand offered to her, and pulled Rolanda down onto the snow beside her. “Oof!” Rolanda uttered as she hit the snow, but quickly she pounced on top of Pomona, capturing her lips in a warm, gentle kiss. After a few moments, she broke the kiss: “let’s continue this inside, where we can actually feel things,” Rolanda said, deftly standing and helping her lover to her feet.


	13. Firewhiskey

Padma kept eyeing the brown bottle sitting on the bar in front of her. It was just twenty minutes before opening time; she hadn’t opened the bar up yet and was alone, silently fuming at the absent barkeeps that failed to show up that day. She wondered if she should even open the doors, and the bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey seemed to be calling her name. The bar surface reflected the few lights that were turned on, and the dim light glinting off the tumbler next to the bottle answered Padma’s quandary. She unscrewed the cap and poured herself some of the amber liquid, knocking it back in one and pouring another finger. 

Lost in her thoughts, Padma was pulled out of her reverie by a knock on the door. “Merlin, fuck,” Padma muttered, startled. She set the tumbler back on the bar and walked to the door, throwing it open in frustration. “We’re not open today, what do you want?” she growled, when the shock of red hair and piercing blue eyes in front of her almost made her do a double-take. Padma’s eyes widened in embarrassment. Ron Weasley quirked an eyebrow and gave a wary grin.


	14. Chocolate

The door to the Potions classroom opened, and Remus walked in. Sirius studied his face as he walked to their table; the previous night had been a full moon, and even though he’d had his friends with him to keep him under control, he still looked a little worse for wear, sporting a few new scratches and bruises. He seated himself next to Sirius. “What did I miss?” he asked, wincing as he drew a flight of phials nearer to himself. 

“Not much,” Sirius said, “other than the fact that we’re brewing fucking amortentia.”

“I’d have thought you’d be okay with that, Pads, the bad boy that you are,” Remus joked. Sirius shrugged, and a renewed scent of moss hit him. The potion must be nearly ready, he thought, and he gave the potion a couple more stirs. 

He bottled some up in a phial, ready for marking. ‘Finally’ thought Sirius, as he cleaned up his workspace. There must have been some dregs of potion left in the bottom of his cauldron, as the honeyed scent of night phlox lingered where he’d been sitting. He cast a scourgify charm on the cauldron and continued cleaning his space. “‘Scuse me, Moony,” he murmured as he leant over Remus to grab his spare parchment. “No problem,” Remus replied. 

Sirius froze. His cheek had brushed against Remus’s shirt as he reached over his friend, and the scent of chocolate invaded his senses. “Oh shit,” Sirius said, his face frozen in shocked understanding.


	15. InspiroBot

Theo Nott watched the snow falling through the windows of the eighth years’ tower common room. No one else was in the common room: it was Christmas break after all, and everyone who mattered to Theo had gone home for the holidays, leaving him alone and, quite frankly, a bit despondent.

He often installed himself in the common room to appreciate the view of the grounds and surrounding terrain. Attempting to sketch the views laid out before him couldn’t keep his mind wandering to the person he was missing most. Goyle—Greg—was one who had gone home. He found himself wondering what he was doing, who he was with, if Greg was thinking of him. He thought of their last time together, the passionate night they’d spent in their private chambers. ‘Gods,’ he thought as the memory of Greg’s mouth around his member invaded his mind, the warm, slick feeling of his tongue running up and down the length of it, the scent of Greg’s skin as Theo nuzzled into his chest in the hazy afterglow of their fucking.

The scent of Greg was something that always drove him wild—woodsy, herby, almost medicinal, and a faint hint of musk. Theo’s face reddened and he felt a stirring creep up on him as he recalled one Potions class in seventh year, where old Sluggy inadvisably had them brew their own Amortentia and, lo and behold, his smelled exactly like Greg. He’d been embarrassed at the time, but ultimately grateful because it had led to them becoming closer friends, then...partners? He didn’t know if it was love, but it was something more than just friendship, of that he was sure.

Theo was absentmindedly sketching a face, no one’s in particular, when he thought of Greg’s scent again. This time, it wrapped around him like a warm blanket, and he let himself be drowned in it. He closed his eyes and Greg’s face swam before him: brown eyes alive with lust, mouth slightly open as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, his shoulders heaving as he took a deep breath. Theo was so wrapped up in his thoughts and memories that he didn’t hear the door to the common room open.

The memory of Greg’s scent now seemed overpowering to him, and Theo opened his eyes, attempting to steady himself. It was then that he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and he knew he wasn’t alone. He quickly turned around and was suddenly face-to-face with Greg, the one person in all of Hogwarts he felt close to. Without saying a word, without another thought, Theo drew Greg to him and brushed their lips together, the longing he’d felt for days only strengthening. Greg broke the embrace. He walked back to the door and opened it, then turned back to Theo, holding out his hand.

“Come,” he breathed, his voice low and gravelly. Theo nodded, the fire returning to his belly. It seemed that the smell of Greg would never leave him, and Theo was completely okay with that.


End file.
